...wAiTiNg tO fAiL...

Why is it that a NASCAR race is so much more exciting once someone crashes? The Miss Universe pageant has never been so amusing as when Miss USA fell on stage and popped right back up. A hockey game sucks if no one throws a punch...and while we all agree it's sad...we glue ourselves to the screen during the Olympics to watch both great accomplishments, as well as, heartbreaking failures. If we miss one of those tragic events, we turn to the internet so that we can watch "the agony of defeat"...over and over and over again. Why is it human nature to love to see others fail?

We all want to be more...the best. We all want a better car...a bigger house...a more impressive job title...a skinnier waistline...more intelligent children. The desire varies depending on the person...but EVERYONE is always looking for more of something. We hate the people that we perceive are better than us or that have achieved what we want to achieve. We work hard and if we're lucky...we make it too...only to find out that it's not as great as we expected it to be.

It's not as great, because when we are succeeding...there's always someone hoping...watching...waiting for us to fail. People smile and congratulate you to your face, while privately they cut you down and secretly hope you will faiI. I feel that way sometimes. For years, my husband and I were so poor. We worked so hard and went without for so long. The hope of a better, more secure future is what kept us going when we didn't know how we were going to pay the bills or when we had to wear coats inside our house, because we couldn't afford to heat it. I dreamed of the day that I could have a nice purse or drive a nice car...the day that I could be proud to bring people to my home...the day that I didn't cry when it came time to pay the bills. After many years, lots of hard work and sacrifice, and thousands of dollars in student loans...we have achieved a lot of our goals. We are not millionaires, but we are more than comfortable...successful by most people's standards. There are many people that have more, but we have a lot and we appreciate it, because it was not easy to obtain.There are other successes, besides monetary successes that people resent as well...especially women. We women have to be the meanest, most competitive creatures to ever walk this earth. I know that there were people that were much more likely to approach me and like me when I was beat down and overweight. It was easy, because I was no threat...no competition. I made the person standing next to me look good. When I took control of my life and problems...lost weight...and gained a bit more confidence...everything changed. People stopped approaching me. I went from being invisible to being talked and whispered about. The sad part is...I'm still me. The inside is the same. I'm still nervous and insecure...I still struggle not to over eat...I still have the same worries as every other 40 something mom. I think that's one of the reasons that I'm so scared of gaining weight. I know that there are people that would revel in my failure, because then they could feel good about their own short comings and weaknesses. People don't always see the successes of others as simply a success to cheer for or congratulate, but as a personal failure...a reflection of what they, themselves, did NOT accomplish.

I have found myself actually being embarrassed at times...embarrassed when a fellow PTA board members husband complimented me instead of her...embarrassed when my children's friends come to the house and say, "Wow! You have a nice house! I wish I had this house!"...embarrassed to admit that I have a nanny even though I work a very part time job...embarrassed of the amount of shoes and purses and belts and clothes in mine AND my childrens' closets. Personally, I think that sometimes I am embarrassed and I fear success because I don't feel worthy. Failure is comfortable in some sick, twisted way...familiar. Maybe part of it is in my head...maybe it's me...the dark insecure parts of me...that are waiting for...fearing...expecting failure. It would be easier in some ways...but would I be happy...settling for less?As I sit and think about the dilemma between "having it all" and being hated for it or being just like anyone else and easy to like, I realize that while it hurts to know that there are people waiting for me to fail...people putting me down in whispers...I could never live with myself knowing that I didn't try to be the best I could be. I realize that deep down people don't really think of me as a jerk or think I'm bad, because if they did...they wouldn't be talking...they wouldn't be competing...they wouldn't care. So, yeah people might love to see other people fall...lose...fail, but personally, I would rather be Miss USA and fall onstage in front of millions, then be the fat girl eating popcorn and laughing from my chair at home. I'd rather be the Olympian that trips and loses the chance to win a medal...the one he has been working for his whole life...than the guy with a spare tire...sitting alone...watching it over and over on youtube. It hurts and it's hard, but I'd rather be the best version of myself, then wonder what could have been. So, I'll keep working while others sit and wait...for failure.

~Marsha

"mEaSuReMeNts aNd sTaTisTicS"

Sometimes I feel like I'm an actress playing a role written by other people. There are times when I feel as though much of what I do is for other people, even when I am doing things for myself. It's like people need me to be this person, and I need to make them happy. And they are...most of the time...except sometimes the very thing that people love...the very "personality" that they have created, becomes the thing they criticize. Sometimes, just when I get good at being what I think I am suppose to be...the standard changes and I feel like I can't measure up.

I truly blessed to be different. I am a complex, multi dimensional, sometimes contradictory person. At times, I feel special...like I am the sun amongst the stars. I feel like people can relate to me and I can speak to them in a way others cannot. I feel loved and appreciated but I'm not always sure that it is for the best parts of me. Many times it is for the parts of me that are the least important...the parts that can be seen on the outside...while the most amazing parts stay tucked away inside...hidden. They are not locked away. Anyone can see them, but only if you look closely...only if you are patient enough to peel back the layers to get past the initial "illusion"...the blonde hair and the boobs and the high heels and the funny stories and ditzy moments. These things are not an act. I do not pretend. These are all a PART of who I am...but there's so much more.

I was so struck when I saw the Nike ad above, because it so perfectly stated the way I have felt lately. There have been times when people have judged the "appearance" in a photo put on the "Strong is the new skinny" page on Facebook. There is talk that someone doesn't look strong enough or is too skinny or sometimes it's too sexy etc. There have been times when I have been judged for the words I choose or how I choose to portray myself. I'm smarter than I look, and I understand that if I am going to stick my neck out and open myself up, there is a chance that I will get my proverbial head chopped off. I accept that and I am okay with it, because if I can grow and learn from it and I can help other people evolve and TRULY change their way of thinking...it's worth a bruised ego every now and then.

I feel sorry for people that only see what I look like in a bikini or judge me based on a single word or description in a post I write. I feel sorry because the person that only focuses on the superficial structure, misses the strength of my foundation. Don't make that mistake. There is no one standard or measurement or statistic for strength or beauty. It comes in many different forms and takes on many different appearances. Look further and be better...to yourself and others. "...And if a woman is to be measured, let her be measured by things she can control...by who she is and who she is trying to become..."

~Marsha

...mOvE yOuR bOOgiE bOdY...

I grunted. I screamed. I sweated. I cussed like a sailor the other day in the gym all alone as I did a workout that included lots of heavy-ish dead lifts with pushups and inverted rows in between. I was tired...hot...and pushed to the limit of what I could do. When I got done, I collapsed on the floor...lying there in my own sweat...thinking how exhausted I was. My lower back was tired and my legs felt shaky, but I was happy.


I've thought a lot about what I and many other strong women do in the gym on a daily basis. It's so different than it was back when I was in 10th grade gym class and I remember doing Jane Fonda. The "burn" I feel now...is much different! There's no comparison between what we do now and what women in Jazzercise classes in the 80s did! I don't dance in the gym...okay well once I lost my mind (normal) and started dancing and spun around the pole of the pullup bars as if I were Demi Moore in "Striptease". I thought I was all alone until a lady came in off the street to try and sell me something. She was surprised and I was embarrassed. I didn't buy her tamales and she left...quickly...looking back with an expression that said, "What just happened in there?!?". So while I may have been dancing in the gym, it was in no way my "workout" that day! My work in the gym does not include choreographed movements in unison with other girls to songs like "Move Your Boogie Body". My work consists of strength training and high intensity workouts. I'm all about chalk and barbells and pullups and dragging or flipping heavy tires...etc etc etc.


I have always said "There is more than one way to skin a cat." One form of training may be great for one person, while another responds better to something else so this is not a post to bash on Jazzercise. Obviously, I think what I do is amazing, but I am not one to say other people are wrong for choosing something different than me. However, I am so glad to live in a changing world where it is becoming more and more acceptable for women to be strong. I'm grateful for Crossfit videos that show women working hard...right alongside the boys. I'm grateful that I have so many choices available to me. Nobody loves to "move their boogie body" more than me. I just prefer to do it on the dance floor and not in the gym.




~Marsha

...tOniGhT tHe fAt GirL LoSt...

"Every fat girl has her own fat story. There are different ways fat folks get fat and lose fat and stay fat.

The world is full of thin women who behind flat stomachs shelter fat girls. You can tell who those women are who give refuge to a fat girl. When they see the buffet table they square their shoulders. They ready for combat with Virginia baked ham, sweet potato souffle and those puffy dinner rolls with butter and a three-layer chocolate mousse cake.

Food is the enemy. Food is also the mother, the father, the warm hearted lover, the house built of red brick that not even the wolf can blow down." excerpt from "Fat Girl: A True Story" by Judith Moore

The excerpt above is not intended to make fun of anyone or say there is one way to be. I hope that no one takes offense to the term "fat girl", because it is JUST that...a term. This is NOT about what I think of other people. It is not to point the finger or say I'm better. Actually, it's quite the opposite. This is one of those times when I am honest and imperfect...when I chose to share my personal weaknesses in hopes of strengthening someone else.

I am feeling a little selfish. This is all about ME at this very moment...my past and present experiences...and the struggles that I personally face on a daily basis...like tonight for instance. Tonight, I am feeling some disappointment and some sadness...and all I can think about is how bad I want to get up off my bed, make some cookies and eat them. I have gone in the kitchen THREE times and turned around and come back to my room. I don't want to eat cookies because I am hungry. I want to eat cookies for comfort.

I am a fat girl...living in a fit body...one with a flat stomach...and a tight butt...and toned arms...one that fits into a size 4 and turns heads. I lost 70lbs six years ago. It took me a whole year...a year of hard work and sacrifice to do it. There was no surgery. There were no pills. Other "girls" sometimes think that I don't understand...they think that I have no concept of the challenges they face when it comes to weight and self image...but I do.

Somedays I am strong and I make good choices. Other days...I feel like the fat girl inside me takes over and I eat things I shouldn't and I feel insecure. The other day I crammed a candy bar in my mouth and then I regretted it for the rest of the day. I work out hard...I always do...and one candy bar on one day won't make me fat...but I still get mad at myself because I feel like I've lost...like I've let the old me take charge of the new me.

It's amazing to me that even after all these years, being fit is not always second nature to me. I have to make a conscious effort every day to maintain the progress that I have made over the years. I have to decide which "me" I will be. Will I be the strong, healthy me? Or will I let the fat girl in me...the old me win?

Throughout the night, I have felt like a junkie "jonesin" for a hit...just one...just enough to make anything that's bothering me go away...just enough to make me feel better. But here's the problem...just like the junkie's high eventually goes away, the comfort from the food goes away and I am left with guilt and shame and the same feelings that led me to that place. I made the decision to change my life almost 7 years ago. The tough part for those of us that struggle with weight issues is that it is not just ONE decision...it's a SERIES of decisions every day.

Tonight I made the decision that I was not going to mask my pain with the comfort of a cookie. It hasn't been easy...it's been a wrestling match between the fit girl in me and the fat girl in me. I did have to "square my shoulders" and "ready myself for combat" with a plate of cookies. I went to battle and I won. There are no freshly baked cookies here. I'm incredibly proud to say that tonight, the fat girl lost! And because I made the right choice...I am going to bed feeling a renewed sense of STRENGTH and hope.

~Marsha

...bEaUtiFuL aGoNy...

Several years ago, my then trainer and still great friend Wes, introduced me to a man...an athlete...an author named Mark Twight. I should say that he didn't introduce me to him in person...I could only dream...but he introduced me to him through his website, GYM JONES...and through one of his books. Wes had read his book called "Kiss or Kill : Confessions of a Serial Climber" and then lent it to me. I devoured the book in just a few days, which is crazy for me because I can be quite A.D.D. at times.It was gritty and in your face...it was extreme and unapologetic. Some people would probably find his ideas and the way he expresses them, offensive, but his words and experiences are motivating to me. I have since gathered many quotes from Mark Twight's book and from his website that motivate me on a daily basis. Some hang on one section of my mirror in the bathroom and some are in my computer. I look at them often for inspiration. Everything I have ever read of MT's makes me want to push harder...run faster...and continue when it hurts and I want to stop. One of my favorite short quotes of his is: "Punish your body to perfect your soul."

I was thinking about this quote today while I worked out...alone in the gym I train at. My back hurt. I was winded, and I was feeling a little...okay, make that VERY...defeated. I've had a lot going on lately and I have let the length and intensity of my workouts slide a bit over the past couple of weeks and I was feeling the effects today. I wanted to just stop but I refused to. I left the gym shaking, nauseous, and utterly exhausted. I know I looked a mess when I stumbled into the burger place on my way home with white chalk from pullups on my hands and black shorts and a tank top soaked with sweat. I thought to myself, "I'm definitely punishing my body, but my soul does not feel perfected today!". It got me thinking about why I do the agonizing work that I do...day in and day out in the gym.I was never one for working out. I am not naturally talented when it comes to anything athletic. I always hated P.E. class in school. I usually just walked to lose weight when I was younger. I was not interested in anything too vigorous or challenging or painful. In my late 20s, I started running, but I never lifted weights and it was always a means to an end...once the weight was gone...I would quit exercising. After I had my third child, I was overweight, overwhelmed, and I didn't like myself very much. I fed the pain, frustration, and the loneliness. In my attempt to comfort myself, I abused my body with food. I became very overweight and very depressed. I felt trapped in a body that did not belong to me, but I wouldn't do anything about it. When I hit 200 lbs, something changed in me and I became motivated to do something about my weight. I started slow and worked my way up in difficulty ...and down in weight.

I started lifting weight and doing high intensity workouts. It was no longer a means to an end...it became a new life for me.I have come so far from where I was. I am a different person now. I love to workout, and I do so 5 to 6 days a week. I try never to miss a day...even when I'm sick. I work hard and I am sore all the time. I punish myself and try to push myself to the limit every time I workout. Some people may be disturbed by the word "punish", but to punish is not necessarily a negative thing. When a child does something wrong, the parent should punish the child appropriately. This teaches the child and corrects the bad behavior. The punishment is not always pleasant, but it is productive and necessary to help the child become the best person possible over time. On the other hand, abuse is not productive. It hurts, but it doesn't make a child stronger. It does not teach. It weakens the body and destroys the spirit. Years ago, I abused my body with food and neglect, and it destroyed my body and it bruised my soul. Now, I do punish my body, but my soul truly is stronger for it...and THAT...is why I do what I do.

I've been made fun of by a family member and told that I have a "problem". Many people just do not understand why I push myself the way I do. I've been called a "freak" and a "masochist". You'd think I'd be offended, but I wear both labels with pride. I am amused by it, because in my life before I got in shape, I would not have understood either. I too would've scoffed at the idea that putting your body through pain, could make you physically strong and heal your heart in the process. Some days..like today...I am miserable while I work out...but as miserable as I felt, there was a strange calmness I felt after wards...a sense of pride and accomplishment. Some days are harder than others. Today the pain I felt while I was working out was pure agony, but when all is said and done...I am grateful for that agony...that beautiful agony that keeps me healthy and strong and proud...the agony that has strengthened me...taught me...refined me... and healed me.

~Marsha

...iT's nOt eAsY...

WARNING: Some parts of this post may be T.M.I. for you boys...but if you can handle it...it might help someone you love...



Does being "strong" mean you can't be scared? Because...today I felt scared...really scared. The problem is that I always feel like I have to be Supergirl...that I should be invincible...like I'm less than if I cry or feel scared...and that makes days like today a challenge...

I have not always been very good about getting my yearly "girly exams". Maybe it's because I haven't taken "the pill" since I had my oldest daughter that is now almost 15...so it's easy to forget or blow off. I finally went a few weeks ago because I wanted to talk to a doc about another issue (that I will spare you the details of...you're welcome) and it had been nagging at me in the back of my mind that I was waaaaaay overdue. I just assumed everything was okay. It always was before. I expected a call a week later to say "The results of your pap smear came back normal." because that's what they always said before. No such luck this time. This time I heard the words "pre-cancerous cells" and my heart sank. The nurse reassured me that everything would be fine...that this happens all the time...yada yada yada...but all I heard was "pre-cancerous" and that I would have to come in for more tests and procedures.

So, today I went in for a more "in depth" exam. Yay. (insert sarcastic tone here) I'm usually tough. I handle stuff...but I felt kinda scared...and angry. I don't know why or where the anger came from...but I definitely felt it. I'm just glad that I did finally go in after being 4 YEARS overdue for an exam and didn't wait any longer. I left the office feeling much better than when I arrived stressed and shaking. The exam was not fun but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

You may be wondering why on earth I am talking about my irregular pap smear results on a blog called "Strong is the new skinny". What does that have to do with being strong? It has a lot to do with it in my mind and so I'm writing this is for these reasons...

1. I want to encourage women to keep up with their yearly exams. It's easy to get out of the habit or put it off. Cervical cancer does not JUST HAPPEN. It takes time and can be caught and treated early if women get a pap smear yearly. We eat right and train hard in the gym, but it takes more than that to stay healthy. Cancer doesn't care how big your muscles are or how fast you can do a workout...and it doesn't discriminate either. It can happen to anyone, and no one enjoys going to the doctor for these types of things, but it's worth it. Girls, keep your body healthy and strong in every way. And guys (if you're still here), encourage the women that you love to make and keep their yearly appointments.

2. NO one here is a super hero. We are all human and it's okay to be scared sometimes. My fear going into the office today doesn't make me weak. It's what I do with that fear that determines that. Ignoring the problem or letting it swallow me up would be the weak thing to do...and I don't want to be weak...so as much as I HATE going to the doctor...I'm seeing this thing through to the end and I will NOT be throwing any pity parties in the meantime. I'm going to stand tall and be a "big girl" because anything else would not be in keeping with the way I try to live my life these days...with strength and courage and a positive outlook. When faced with the choice to laugh or cry...I will choose laughter...always...and I hope everyone here makes the same decision.

3. Lastly, I wrote about this because I feel like the things I do in the gym...have helped me outside of the gym once again. My fitness goes beyond my appearance and yours should too. Sure, it's great to turn heads in a bikini or be able to fit into a pair of tight jeans, but there's more to it than just that. Mark Twight says, "Tough workouts that push an individual to the very limit of his or her capacities may become the gateway to higher consciousness. And that awareness often leads to confidence." I have to agree. The mental toughness and confidence that I have developed through the suffering I've felt during my workouts is what makes me strong in these types of circumstances. The ability to keep going when I don't want to...when I'm tired...or when it hurts...makes everyday stuff like today's exam, a piece of cake.

Days like today are not easy, but I know I will be okay. I know that because I KNOW I can handle anything that comes my way...and THAT...is true strength.

~Marsha

...aLL i eVer rEaLLy nEEdEd tO kNoW i LeaRnEd fRoM wEs...

There's a book called "All I Ever Really Needed To Know I Learned In Kindergarten" by Robert Fulghum. I have often thought that I learned all I ever really needed to know inside the walls of a gym...or outside on a track...or in a park on a trail. I learned them from the man that once pushed me hard in that gym...and held the stopwatch as I ran on that track...and ran beside me on my favorite trail at the park...a man that can still inspire and encourage me from over a thousand miles away. That man's name is Wes.

Wes and I were an unlikely pair. Wes was much younger than me and a talented athlete. He was handsome and good at everything he did. Everyone likes Wes and he has the ability to command respect like no one I've ever met since. I was a mother of three and my life was in a rut. I had lost 75 lbs but I was not yet comfortable in my own skin. I was bored and felt inept at most everything I did. We were forced together for a free training session in the gym I had joined when the women only gym I went to went out of business. I had NO interest and did not think I needed a trainer...and he did not act excited at the prospect of training just another Mom. I gave in to the pressure from the gym mgr at the time that was tired of seeing me come in the gym and spend 2 hours using every single machine in the gym, every single day of the week. I decided that I would just take the free session and "get it over with" so I didn't have to hear it again. Wes did his job and gave me a free session...never expecting me to actually sign up for more.

I think we both surprised each other. Wes is tough. He pushed me...hard...harder than I've ever been pushed that first day...and in the days and months to follow. I responded and did what he told me. I gave him everything I had and never stopped. He was my trainer...my coach...and in time became my friend. Over the next year, he taught me things that have shaped me...things that have helped me rise to my true potential...not just INSIDE the gym...but in my personal life as well. The "old me" died in the year I spent training with him and a "new me" was born...the "me" that I was always meant to be.

Wes taught me that most of my limitations are self imposed. He taught me to stop saying "I can't" and try. Nothing comes easy for me and so at times I had to try over and over and over again...but eventually I would knock a wall down that had once held me back. With every wall that I knocked down, my limitations became fewer and my accomplishments became greater. I did things wasn't comfortable with...things I had never done before and never expected to...like dragging and flipping tires and swinging a kettlebell. My confidence in and out of the gym multiplied.

Wes taught me to laugh at myself. When I was in my 20s, I was always embarrassed. I lacked the ability to find humor in my short comings...in my mistakes. If I tripped and fell...I was devastated. I would cry and close myself off. There were many times that I did things that I once would've found humiliating, but with Wes I felt safe. He helped free me from that awful feeling I once felt and taught me to laugh and move on.

Wes taught me that everyone needs a friend. When I met Wes, I was very lonely. I've never had a lot of girlfriends. Most of my friends growing up were guys...and that got complicated once I got married. I had closed myself off and held everyone at arms length. I kept most people around me as acquaintances and never really opened myself up to anyone. I didn't think that I was worthy of true friendship and let very few people really come inside my life. Not only did Wes become my friend...a person that I could talk to and text and share my life with...but he helped build the confidence and self love in me to realize that I am worthy of friendship. He never gave up on me...ever...whether I was humble or had an ego...whether I was focused or difficult...he believed in me...in and out of the gym. That in turn has helped me learn that no one should ever be counted out...that everyone deserves another chance.

Wes taught me that I can do whatever I set my mind to. I never played a sport in my life before I met him. P.E. class was torture for me my entire life growing up. I am awkward and clumsy and nothing athletic comes naturally to me. He once sd to me when I was "warming up"..."Holy Shit! I've never seen anyone do jumping jacks WRONG before!"...and in case you are wondering...yes, you can in fact do them wrong. None of that mattered. Wes didn't cut me a break or give me any excuses. He taught me and then it was my job to keep on working until I got it down. This has helped me succeed in many areas of my life since then. I don't give up or count myself out just because I'm not good at something because I know that eventually, I will be successful.Wes taught me that failing does not make me a failure. I am such a perfectionist that I don't like to do things that I am not good at and so I avoided many things up until I met him...and if I did try and fail...I would hate myself and never try again. That was not an option in the gym with Wes...and neither was feeling sorry for myself. Some days, we would abort the mission and move on...but I never got out of trying again. He worked with me on dead hang pullups the entire time I trained with him and I never got one...but he never stopped trying and shortly after he moved away...I got it and he was the first person I wanted to tell. He was thrilled because my successes were his successes too.

Wes taught me respect...for myself and others. He taught me to trust. He taught me that sometimes it's okay to give up control and allow someone else to help. When he would train me and I would literally think at times that I might die...I knew I could keep going...because I knew I could trust him. When I thought I couldn't and he said "YOU CAN!"...I believed him and he never lied to me. The mental toughness that I found has gotten me through things that I never thought possible...things that even he does not know about.

I was a scared, lonely, weak person when I met Wes and I blossomed into the confident, friendly, strong woman that was trapped inside me all along. The lessons I learned from him in the gym, have forever changed my life. I have often thought about how different my life is because of my time with Wes. At times, I feel bad because I feel like he gave me so much more than I ever gave him and I know that there is no way to ever really repay him. So, I try to continue to grow and do the things he taught me as a way of paying respect to him and I do my best everyday to "pay it forward" and try to help others the way he helped me.

~Marsha

...aRe yOu tHe tOrToiSe oR tHe hArE???...

My kids really liked classic stories and fairy tales when they were little. We would read two different stories every night before they went to sleep. There were all the stories one might expect...The Gingerbread Man...Chicken Little...Snow White...Rumpelstilskin...and of course, The Tortoise and The Hare. Each story has it's own lesson to be learned.

Many days, I workout alone. This is not my preference. I like to be with other people. Before I trained/was at a Crossfit facility...I had a personal trainer. Wes and I became the best of friends and even though he lives away now and has for years, I still hold him in my heart as one of my dearest friends. After almost a year of training with him, he use to joke that he almost felt bad taking my money. He is an amazing coach...truly talented...and had done what every good coach does...he taught me so well that I didn't NEED to pay him to train me anymore. I could've easily gone off on my own. I continued to pay him because I loved having someone there to push me through workouts. I loved NOT being alone.

Somedays I go to the gym when I'm not working there and workout with the group that is there. There's a sense of happiness and comfort when I am suffering alongside my friends. There's also a feeling of competition. I always run a little faster, push myself a little harder, do a little more when there's someone next to me and the stopwatch is running. So when I'm alone, it's easy to have days where I don't go quite as hard. It's easy to "forget" to start the stopwatch and just get through it at a "quick pace". I could quit or take breaks and no one would know. No one...but me.

I distinctly remember having an experience a while back where I learned an important lesson. I was struggling with being lonely in the gym. It seemed I was always working out alone and I felt bored and unmotivated. I remember getting to the gym and writing down what I planned to do on the whiteboard. I went outside to run a mile as my "warmup". I love to run and I've been running for years. One stinkin mile at an easy pace is nothin, but that day it felt like every step took a concerted effort. I finished up...feeling really tired and run down. I thought to myself... "Maybe I need to rest...Maybe I need to remember that slow and steady wins the race...just like the tortoise did."

I decided that instead of pushing myself to continue, I would clean up the gym because it was a real mess in there. I sprayed Lysol and wiped EVERYTHING down with antibacterial wipes. Then, I vacuumed and mopped. It took me almost an hour and my back was killin me. I decided to just go eat some lunch and then maybe take a walk...do some "active recovery".

I went and ate and was pulling in to the park to walk on the trail there when I had an "AHA" moment. I made a circle and pulled back out...heading back towards the gym just down the street. I went in...erased what I had originally planned...and started dragging dumbbells and the rowing machine and a medicine ball and a tire and a sledgehammer outside to the parking lot and entryway. I did a fun, but fairly tough workout...tough enough that I was LAID OUT on the ground when I was through. I timed myself with a stopwatch and went as if I were racing another person. I had no more energy or strength than I had earlier, but I did it for the reasons I am about to explain...

Yeah..."slow and steady wins the race" but ONLY if the other racers are distracted and lazy. We always think we should be like the tortoise...slowly and methodically going towards the goal and in some cases, that is true...but here's a slightly different view that I came up with that day. I do get tired. I do work hard and I could use a little rest. I can come up with a million excuses that would've gotten me out of working out that day and no one would think less of me. I could've been a tortoise and taken a slow, steady walk, but would I have felt the same sense of accomplishment?...and would I get as much out of it?!? The hare lost, but what if the hare had pushed himself to keep going when he was hungry and tired...if he had...HE would've beaten the slow, steady tortoise. So I asked myself that day...outloud..."Are you a tortoise...or are you the hare?"

If ALL the other "racers" don't try their hardest...if they are distracted by pain or hunger or things that are more "fun" to do...then certainly slow and steady will win the race. I'm not willing to take that chance. I want to set the pace. I know that in the end, it doesn't matter what other people are doing. I decide how I will take on each day in the gym and what my success or failure there will be. I decided that day to become the new, improved, focused hare and save the tortoise mentality for "rest days". So my question to you is the same one I asked myself..."Are you gonna be the tortoise? Or the hare?" It's up to you!

~Marsha

...wHiCh wOuLd yOu rAtHeR hAvE?...

I am not going to be mistaken for a professional athlete or a bodybuilder anytime in the near future. Muscles are not the first thing people notice when they see me...BUT when I slip into a bikini, I don't look scrawny or skinny. I think I look healthy and fit.
















A few months ago, I posted some pics on my Facebook of some new bikinis I bought to show my friends. They were pics of them on models...thin models. Then when I got home from vacation, I was looking through pics on the beach and realized that while I am not abounding in muscles, I look so much healthier and stronger than those models wearing the same suits. Was it a HUGE difference? No...but it was enough to make me glad that I do what I do in the gym.
















So I ask you...#1 Would you rather look skinny? Or #2 Would you rather look strong and healthy? Different people like different things...and I must say that I know my body is not perfect. There are people in better shape...people stronger...that look better, but the point I'm trying to make is that what we see in magazines...what we are taught to think is "good"...skinny...isn't as good as being healthy and fit!

If you chose answer #2, then get in the gym and lift weight! Push yourself! Don't worry about being bulky. I am a perfect example of someone that lifts weight and I am far from bulky!

~Marsha

Here's an amazing article from Elite FTS that really helped me realize how important the way I train is. CLICK HERE to read!

...dOn'T bE A sHaLLoW HaL...

Some days I wonder...where does the time go? I wake up every morning with the intention of working out early...and so many times, I let life...or the computer...or phone calls and texts get in the way. Then, it seems I have to do less than I want or I miss a workout altogether and I then torture myself all day over it and I start to see myself differently in the mirror.

Anyone that knows the real, private me well, knows how very hard I am on myself. I pick myself apart like no body's business. It's not okay. It's bad. At times, I'm such a basket case over my body that I wonder if I need to switch to yoga or silent meditation with monks. I'm like Shallow Hal, only instead of seeing everyone as beautiful...I see MYSELF in reverse. I see beauty as ugliness and I see fit as fat. Not good! I SO need to chill...I know that..and see/treat myself the way I see and treat others.

A while back, I was really down on myself and a friend told me that I needed to adapt a new mantra that didn't start with "I suck" or "I'm fat"...and so I did. As narcissistic as I seem and can be at times...it really WAS hard for me to write the words...but I did...and for a while I read them to myself every morning when I was all alone...in my closet. I've kinda been slipping and stopped doing that for some time now. I have decided today that I need to get re focused and start seeing the good again. So I got out my old "mantra" and read it aloud. Here it is...

"I am beautiful. My a** looks hot in my tight jeans and spandex workout pants. When I wear a shirt with words and people stare at my chest...they are not always reading...and they are smiling. When I wear heels...my legs look long and sexy. When I walk by, people stop and stare...not because I look ugly...because I look good. I am beautiful.

I am strong. When I compete in the gym, I do well...sometimes...I even "beat the boys". When I demonstrate movements in the gym, I can make them look easy...even when they are not. When I do a difficult movement or lift a heavy weight, others are impressed. I have a body that most women would want and I should be proud. I am strong."

So, there you have it. I'm a little embarrassed to post this...but I promised to be honest with you...no matter what...even if people judge...and while I'll admit that it is a bit superficial...this is where I struggle. I know WHO I AM on the inside. It's the outside I have a hard time with, and so I'm gonna start reading this mantra again every day.

You may wonder how on earth I can struggle this way while trying to inspire women to take care of their bodies and embrace strength rather than struggling to be skinny. I'll tell you how I can do it...I can do it, because I've lived it and still do in some form on some days. I've felt the pressure to be skinny...and lemme tell you...I'm NOT "naturally skinny". I struggle to buy jeans that fit both my small waist as well as the quads my back squats have built. I took diet pills and ate lettuce as a teenager. I've also been overweight and struggle with the fear of returning there. I've seen this from every direction and that is why I am so passionate about this. I want the women that wear my tanktops and shirts to believe the words written on the chest..."Strong is the new skinny". I want you to look in the mirror and see what I see...a beautiful strong woman that is making progress each day in the gym.

I have decided that EVERYONE should have a mantra...so if you don't...take a minute today and write one. It doesn't have to be the same as mine. It can be anything you want as long as it builds you up. You can share it with the rest of us like I did...or you can keep it private...but read it...outloud to yourself...and don't stop reading it until you believe it in the depths of your soul. Don't be Shallow Hal...see things...see yourself as you really are...beautiful and strong.

~Marsha

...wOrKoUt tOurEttEs...

I love to workout alongside the guys at my gym. I love it, because they push me without saying a word. I run faster…I go harder and longer…I do one more rep without stopping…all because I want to beat them. This is funny...because the few guys I am usually trying to beat...are pretty strong guys…all younger than me (except one)…all men…many are ex-military...or in law enforcement. I can’t beat them usually…but still…I try and I’ll NEVER stop trying.

Sometimes…almost EVERY time…I am in serious pain during a workout as I race against the boys and the stopwatch. Consequently, I have to fight my way through most workouts. The funny part…the annoying part…is how uncontrollably loud I am. I GRUNT…and I MOAN…and I YELL. I’ve often referred to myself as “the Monica Seles of Crossfit”. I even shout out profanities every now and then. I make all sorts of crazy noise! I always wonder if I'm alone in this...Lots of times, no one says anything. Sometimes they tease me and say the sounds I make sound like the "mating call of a wild moose". Consequently, that's my nickname on especially hard/loud days in the gym..."Moose". The weird part is that it all JUST happens. These profanities and noises just fly out of my mouth without any thought…like I can’t control it. Even today in the gym...working out...ALL alone...I STILL grunted and yelled. It’s almost like I have Tourettes Syndrome…except it’s ONLY when I workout and it’s ONLY verbal…no tics…yet. It’s like I have “Workout Tourettes” and I wonder if I’ll ever be “cured”. Maybe one day I will learn to control it…but until then…I guess my friends at the gym will have to put up with me and my ridiculous noises in the gym. Still, I wonder...are other people as noisy as me???


~I'm so glad that I workout at a Crossfit gym where I can drop weights, and yell, and do whatever it takes to push myself further! I found this video and thought it was hilarious! Good thing I don't go to Planet Fitness! I might be kicked out!

~Marsha

..aM i sTrOnG eNoUgH?...

Most people associate strength with muscles. If a guy has big muscles...he must be strong...right? So people go to the gym and they target certain muscles...biceps for example. Most guys in the gym want big biceps so they look "strong"...they hang out by the dumbbells and never think to learn complicated Barbell movements or Olympic lifts.. Who needs em?...right? The answer to that question is...everyone needs them. Young or old...fat or thin...people wanting to excel in sports as well as the everyday person that wants to be "fit"...no matter who you are...you can greatly benefit from working to improve your overall strength with a barbell and some plates.



True strength is not about how
many inches around your bicep is or how sculpted your abs are. Don't get me wrong...those things are not bad...but they are aesthetic. It's okay to want to look good. I do...but it's also important to be well rounded and strong.



I've thought a lot about what it means to be strong over the past week. When the whole "Strong is the new Skinny" thing came about on Facebook, I was just going about my life...being the best "me" that I could be. Since then, I have days when I wonder..."Am I strong enough?". I don't have the biggest muscles...there are lots of women that can probably lift a lot more than me. I wonder if I'm worthy to even be giving any advice or putting myself out there. So many questions run through my little blond head.

I've thought long and hard and here are the answers I've come up with... Yes, there are women with bigger muscles. Yes, there are women can lift or move more weight. But I am still worthy of giving advice...of telling my story...because no one knows me and where I've come from better than me. I AM the best at being me, and if I can inspire people with my story...my antecdotes, and my way of doing things then I don't need to worry about everyone else and how I compare. Am I lifting crazy amounts of weight??? No...but I am improving upon what I have been able to do in the past...and that makes me really happy.

Strength is relative in my opinion. What is strong for me, is not strong for Ronnie Coleman...and what's strong for Ronnie Coleman, is not strong for Mark Twight. Neither of those guys could ever be the best at doing what the other does. They are best at what they, themselves, do.


Don't compare yourself to other people. Don't try to be the best at being someone else. Do what it takes to turn yourself into the best possible version of YOU. Strong looks different for different people. I think that's what makes "Strong is the new skinny" different. There's not one way to look or one way to get there. It's about NOT feeling like you have to look like everyone else. It's about loving yourself and working towards a better stronger you each day.

"Am I strong enough?" Yes, I am...and so are you!

~Marsha

...dOn'T hAtE mOnDaYs...

Have you ever seen a poster that says "I hate Fridays!"? Of course not. Fridays are looked forward to because we are tired and ready for fun...ready to be done with everyday stresses...excited to go have fun and spend time with friends and family. Mondays on the other hand...Mondays get a bad rap. Everyone hates Monday.

Monday is the day everyone drags around complaining about their job. It's like it's okay to be negative or unhappy on Mondays. It's almost expected. I use to feel this way. My house is always a wreck Monday morning. I feel regretful for all the bad, crappy food I ate over the weekend. My kids don't want to go to school. I'm thinking about everything I have to accomplish during the week and it can get really depressing and overwhelming if I let it. I'm not sure when it happened, but a while back that changed for me. I look at Mondays differently now. Instead of dreading Mondays, I try to look forward to them and frankly I have little patience for the incessant Monday b****ing. Here's what I say to anyone that feels the need to complain about Mondays...

If there's something you don't like about your life...CHANGE IT! If you hate your job, do something different. If you are unhappy with your reflection in the mirror...get up...NOW...and DO SOMETHING about it! LIVE the life you want and do it with commitment and passion. Stop doing what you think everyone else wants you to do and start really living.I know there are people saying, "But I can't just quit my job." or "I'll start my diet next week." I'm saying ,"Yes you can!" Maybe you can't walk in today and tell your boss to "Take this job and shove it!" because you have a family to support...bills to pay. What you can do is make a plan...with a deadline. Make a choice and stop being scared. Hold yourself accountable.

My all time workout hero is Mark Twight. He is really rough around the edges...offensive to some...but this is what he preaches. He says,

"Burn the bridge. Nuke the foundation. Back yourself up against a wall. Have an opinion one way or the other, get off the fence and rip it up. Cut yourself off so there is no going back. Once you're committed the truth will come out. You ask about security? What you need is uncertainty. What you need is confusion; something that forces you to reinvent yourself, a whip to drive you harder. "

Sounds harsh? Maybe it is, but have you ever met a successful football coach that babys his players and makes practice comfortable? Uhhh...NO. If you want to be strong, you have to do things that are scary sometimes. If you want to be strong, you have to do things that are uncomfortable...things that are hard. If you want to be strong, you cannot hide behind excuses or give up the first time you fail.

Get out a piece of paper right now. Hell, right on your hand if you have to. Write down something you are going to do differently...something that you want to improve upon...and DO IT! Don't tuck it away and continue to groan about the fact that it's Monday. Show it to someone and be accountable. Make the changes that you need to make to become better...stronger...and start doing them now. Trade your powdered donuts and pop tarts for eggs and bacon. Get in the gym and push yourself harder than you ever have. Surround yourself with people that make you want to do more, not those that seek to drag you down.

Don't hate Monday. USE Monday. Appreciate it for what it is...a fresh start...a chance to have a completely different week than you had the week before...an opportunity to become a whole new you...an excuse to cut things out of your life that no longer add to the quality of it. Do something different and CHOOSE the life you want...today!

~Marsha